


I'm the one who sees you home

by Dialects_and_Costumes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (pats hood) this baby can hold SO many tropes, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Chapter two is just Jaime Lannister's mulled wine recipe, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jaime's respection for Brienne makes an appearance, Road Trips, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Use of a non-canon nickname, mild hypothermia, snow as a plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28425570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dialects_and_Costumes/pseuds/Dialects_and_Costumes
Summary: Jaime asks Brienne for a favor on the last day of winter term. How much trouble could it be?
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 38
Kudos: 82
Collections: JB Festive Festival Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frecklesfreckles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesfreckles/gifts).



> A very happy festive chill exchange to us all! frecklesfreckles expressed a love of a few different AUs along with hurt/comfort, which I have done my utmost to fulfill with this lovely little jaunt into a world in which Jaime and Brienne are veterinary students. I know absolutely nothing about veterinary medicine, so all the mistakes zoology experts might spot are the result of my sporadic googling.
> 
> Title comes from "Lost in the Woods" from Frozen 2

_“_ So listen. I need some help.”

That had been her first mistake, Brienne decided later that day. Her first mistake had been letting Jaime Lannister sit down at the table and keep talking. If she had just said no, she wouldn’t be in the mess she was in right now.

But no. Instead she had said-

 _“_ From _me_? _”_

-and had practically _invited_ Jaime to keep talking.

She’d been having a blissfully normal day to finish off the winter term at the University of Winterfell. Brienne had woken up early, determined (as always) to cram as much studying as she could in her day before she had to start packing. Brienne had learned quickly that an early start meant more time to throw on the countless layers she’d need, from long-jons to her poor first attempt at a scarf, in order to make the most of her day.

Brienne had fought her way through the snow to one of Winterfell’s underground tunnels (fondly referred to as “The Crypts” for their decidedly unwelcoming use of unadorned concrete), following the path that would bring her back above ground close to the library. Her coursework was done, but she had stumbled on handling breech cubs during her practical exam with gestating direwolves so she was back to the library to bury herself once again in anatomy books.

That’s where Jaime had found her, and that’s where he had smiled his stupid handsome smile behind the stupid dashing beard he had grown over the last semester “to stay warm” and Brienne had been just charmed enough by how it warmed his stupid attractive green eyes to listen to him.

“You’re one of the only people brave enough to head home for the Long Night, and my ride bailed. Think you could help me out, Wolfhound?”

It wasn’t that Brienne _hated_ Jaime. She didn’t. On occasion, if someone had asked her, she’d admit there were times he made her smile into her scarf at his spirited responses to their instructors. She had been impressed with his cool and calm approach to their first practical handling the university’s mammoths, and at times, Brienne would have even admitted Jaime was positively swoon-worthy with the easy way he smiled at their fellow peers when they succeeded in class.

(She definitely wouldn’t admit to any swooning she may or may not have done in her own private time. That was between her and the toy that sat buried in her nightstand.)

But if she could be guaranteed of anything, it was that a request from Jaime Lannister would mean her life was about to be… _complicated._

Switch partners during a practical? Brienne would inevitably find out just how hard it was to clean horse dung off a backpack. Borrow her notes? Jaime would return with a charmingly sheepish grin and an envelope full of ashes because the power had gone out and he had tried to read her tiny handwriting by candlelight. Hells, it was partially thanks to a night out drinking with Jaime and their fellow veterinary students back in the Westerlands that had led to Brienne applying for the Winterfell Artic Beasts study abroad program in the first place.

She also hadn’t been thrilled at Jaime’s insistence on her moniker of “Wolfhound” –she had been the first person willing to examine the feral direwolf brought in for injury evaluation by a local preservation team; thus, a nickname had been born –and he knew it.

So Brienne had looked up from the book to arch a brow at him and simply reply, “Still not my name.”

She had thought that would be enough to send him smiling to another unsuspecting student.

She had been wrong.

Rather than act as a warning, Jaime had grinned at her. His smile (damn the man for making the hint of crookedness in his bottom teeth look charming) should have served as a startling reminder that the six years Jaime had on her had been spent at law school before his sudden decision to swap majors and study veterinary medicine. She _knew_ better than to leave things so wide open for him.

“That’s not a no, Wolfhound.”

Brienne had rolled her eyes, but Jaime hadn’t moved, and Brienne wasn’t about to act _completely_ awful right before the Long Night. It was all about bringing your own light to others, for Seven’s sake, and her mother would have dunked her in the Straits of Tarth is she had been alive to see Brienne be so uncharitable.

“Fine. But you’re paying for fuel _and_ I get to throw you out of the car if you complain about my driving or the music. Deal?” Brienne had been grateful in that moment for the scarf wrapped around her face to hide her blush at the devastating way Jaime’s face had lit up.

“Deal.”

A flurry of exchanged texts with details had followed, and a whirlwind four hours had led to Brienne opening the trunk of her car to begin her road trip.

With Jaime.

To be fair, he had abided by the two rules for the first hour of their journey. Jaime was actually a pleasant companion on the road. He didn’t complain about the cautious way Brienne made her way through the snow to emerge onto the main road, and when he decided the music wasn’t background noise enough, he spoke eagerly and intelligently about the subject he chose.

Until the detour sign.

The big flashing arrow pointing to a tiny access road that hadn’t seen a snowplow in months was another thing Brienne was blaming their current predicament on. If that damned sign hadn’t been there, Jaime would have kept to enthusiastically chattering about the history of the King’s Road and the Stark Foundation’s odd laws about land purchase, and they’d still be on a relatively clear road headed towards King’s Landing.

But no. No, they had to go down the damn access road, and Brienne just had to feel unsafe going the speed limit, and Jaime just had to decide to open his damn mouth to snark at her.

“Could you drive _any_ slower, Wolfhound?”

And that had caused Brienne to turn her head and snap right back, “That’s _not_ my name,” right as a giant elk had stepped into the road.

Brienne had slammed on her breaks, but her dad’s old sedan, even decked out in the trusty snowchains, was no match for the freshly fallen snow.

So that’s how Brienne found herself swerving into a snowbank.

With Jaime _fucking_ Lannister in the passenger seat.

They both sat in shock for a few beats. Jaime gaped with his mouth open like a goldfish, and Brienne took deep breaths to keep from crying or strangling Jaime or both.

“Well, fuck.” Brienne spoke into the steering wheel before turning the car off. The chill from the frigid temperatures outside immediately flooded into the car, and she glared at the white expanse currently pinning her car into place.

“What now?” Jaime had the audacity to look apologetic, as if that was enough. Brienne didn’t trust herself not to snap at him again, so she kept silent and stared at the snow while her mind whirled with possible solutions. Finally, she realized she needed more information, and she fought for a moment with her seatbelt before twisting her frame around to snatch her coat, hat and gloves from the backseat she had unceremoniously tossed them onto earlier. She did her best to ignore Jaime continuing to stare at her as she wrestled the coat on in the cramped cabin of the car.

“Brienne?” At the use of her name, Brienne sighed before turning to face Jaime. She might be angry with him, but angry was not going to get them back on the road.

“First, I’m going to see how badly buried the car is and if I can push it back onto the main road. If you can get a signal on your phone, I need you to call the North Vehicle Aid line and see what their rescue estimate is. I have an emergency kit, but it’s not going to last long with two of us. The faster we can have a plan, the better chance we have at not freezing to death, so I need us to both work quickly, okay?”

Jaime nodded, and Brienne took a moment to double check her scarf was fully wrapped around her neck as she braced herself to open the door to the Northern winds.

Twenty minutes later, Brienne was swearing again as she clambered back into the car.

“Fucking shit. Shit, shit, _shit_.” She hunched over the steering wheel for warmth. “Even if it weren’t cold enough to turn the actual gods into their own stone statues, there’s no way I’m getting the car out with how dark it is outside already.” Brienne glanced over at Jaime. He was frowning in concentration at his phone. “What’s the verdict from the NVA?”

“How long do you think we could manage out there if we were walking the whole time?”

Brienne stared at him.

“What?”

Jaime held his phone out with the navigation app glowing in the dark.

“An ice storm hit Winterfell about an hour after we left, and the NVA estimates twelve hours before they can make it out to us. My family has some property rented out from the Starks about a thirty minute walk from here.” Brienne’s face paled before Jaime spoke again. “So. Do you think we could make it?”

Brienne clenched and unclenched her hands, willing warmth into them. For all of Brienne’s stoicism in the face of the frigid Northern temperatures, she really was a Stormlands girl at heart, lover of all things temperate, and every extremity was screaming out at her for even considering going back out into the snow and ice.

But it was Jaime asking her. And yes, he was the Jaime who grinned at her stony expression every time he called her Wolfhound and made things so fucking _complicated_ by irritating her enough to drive into a snowbank –but he was also the Jaime who took their practical on direwolf care so seriously, two of the puppies in the university’s hospital had seemed to adopt him into their pack, and he was the one looking at Brienne right now waiting patiently for her answer.

Brienne sighed.

“I think we can make it, but _please_ tell me there’s a ridiculous rich person’s fireplace in this cabin or some sort of obnoxious smart-phone furnace system.” Jaime’s face brightened, and he grinned at her plaintive response.

“There is. I’ll even add in a handmade batch of my family’s mulled wine recipe as penance for breaking one of the road-trip rules, Wolfhound. I’m sorry about that.” Brienne resisted the impulse to throw a face a Jaime as he switched back to the nickname. He had apologized, and that was more than she had hoped for from him.

“Deal.” Brienne shivered. “I just need a moment.” Jaime hesitated as he reached below his seat to grab his own pile of winter gear to start layering on himself.

“You’re sure?” Brienne felt her shoulders tense, and she had to remind herself that for all that Jaime liked to tweak at her metaphorical nose, this wasn’t one of those moments.

“Yeah. But we should have a plan for when we get out there. It’s going to be impossible to hear each other. I can work as a sort of human snowplow, and you can tug on my shirt or something to tell me if we need to switch directions.” Brienne nodded as she spoke. There was something oddly relaxing about being able to put together some form of a plan, shaky as it was.

Jaime arched a brow at her, and Brienne felt she was about to curse the day she had met stupid, confident, teasing Jaime and his stupid jawline sculptors _wished_ they were skilled enough to capture.

“Why should you go in front? I’m strong enough.” Brienne wished for a moment she could bury her face in the snow outside as she flushed. _That is_ not _what he means, and you know it, fucking hells._ She also wanted to jump headfirst naked into that very same snowdrift when her blush made her snap at Jaime for no earthly reason.

“If you’re so strong, then you can just sling me over your shoulder and carry me the rest of the way if I fall.” Brienne was mortified, and had all but prepared to weather a trademark Lannister retort at her rash words, but Jaime’s green eyes just glimmered at her, and Brienne felt her mouth go dry.

That was _not_ the reaction she had expected.

Brienne managed not to squeak as she continued on. “If I’m focused on clearing the path, you can spend your time and energy making sure we’re going in the right direction.” She felt ready to stand up in class and deliver a whole dissertation after finding that shred of logic in the midst of Jaime looking at her with _that face_.

Jaime had finally turned away from her, contemplating his gloves with a frown.

“Fair enough.”

Brienne didn’t trust herself to exhale and not have it sound shaky, so she had set herself to briskly checking to ensure there were no gaps in between her layers for the cruel North wind to tear at her skin, all the while thinking: _I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look like that before._

“You ready to do this?” Jaime’s question felt heavy in the car as the snow continued to create an eerie quiet around them.

Brienne let her gloved hand rest on his for a moment. “I trust you.”

The pair quickly exited the car, moving as fluidly as they could. IT was difficult; the wind that had brought the ice storm on Winterfell slammed into both of them before the doors shut behind them. They both navigated slowly to the trunk of the car, grabbing their backpacks. Brienne had very practically forced Jaime to repack before they had left the University of Winterfell, and each of them were now only burdened with a heavily stuffed duffel backpack as they turned into the wind tugging at their clothes.

Brienne didn’t take any spare moments in the cruel biting North wind, but as she examined the driverless road, she would have said a prayer of thanks to the Father for making her strong. It was a strength she had earned riding horses in the surf on her home island of Tarth and lifting infant elephants onto examination tables during her year in Morne before this semester had begun; it was a strength that sent energy burning into her legs as she marched forward into unpacked snow as high as her knees. Jaime was a pace behind her, his hand a comforting weight pressing into her shoulder.

Brienne shoved her legs forward, twisting it back and forth to clear a path for the pair of them. She knew she looked ridiculous, but Jaime was steady behind her as he kept holding onto her shoulder, and they marched forward one agonizing step at a time. She was exhausted before they reached the first turn in the road, and Brienne did her best to ignore the tendrils of despair threatening to stop her in her tracks. Their chances of surviving on her frugally assembled survivor-kit-for-one wasn’t any better, and there was the promise of _warmth_ at the end of this path. She might have driven them into a snow drift, but _dammit_ she was going to get herself and Jaime to a warm cabin.

The ice storm’s clouds blocked out the sun, and Brienne squinted through the falling snow to find each step in the dim forest. She felt snow melt and refreeze on her cheeks and eyelashes, and she blinked hard to avoid adding freshly frozen tears from the fierce cold to the mix. Jaime squeezed her shoulder when she had strayed too far from the road. The small access road wound its way through the trees, so Brienne relied more on Jaime’s wordless communication to keep plodding forward in the right direction. He would tug gently on her scarf in the right direction, Brienne would shift, and she would once again begin her work as a human snowplow.

Somehow, despite the blood pumping through her veins from exertion, Brienne felt herself beginning to shake from the cold. She swore under her breath, but continued to forge her way ahead, focusing her attention on Jaime’s hand steadily guiding her through the snow. She felt every inch of skin exposed to the elements, and it felt like her goosebumps had their own constellations of goosebumps with how the temperature continued to drop as the little sun that had remained gave way to dusk.

Just as Brienne started to feel like she was going to shiver out of her skin, Jaime tugged on her shoulder, stopping her forward progress. He stepped up against her, and yelled over the storm.

“THERE IT IS.” Brienne had to stop herself from leaning against the hint of warmth as he stepped back. About ten feet in front of them was a little cabin, sturdily built. Brienne had been expecting a sprawling mini ski resort, but the chalet in front of them was downright practical in its little corner of the world. The windows were frosted over and the most ostentatious feature she could see was a magnificent brick chimney poking up from the roof.

Jaime forged ahead past her now that they could see their destination, and Brienne did her best to stay upright as she followed him. She mentally coached herself up the steps, starting to feel dizzy as the adrenaline from her laser-like focus faded. Rather than a traditional keyhole, the front door sported a numbered keypad, and with a quick punch of the proper code, both Jaime and Brienne stumbled inside. Jaime wrestled the door shut, and it seemed like his and Brienne’s heavy breathing echoed in the sudden quiet.

Brienne was shaking with exertion and the cold. Her fists and eyes were clenched shut, and her balance seemed to be based more on luck right now than anything else.

“-lfhound. Wolfhound. _Brienne._ Hey, can you hear me?” Brienne blinked slowly, looking up to see a concerned Jaime looking up at her.

“I-i-i-it’s c-cold.” She managed to stutter, shivers wracking her body. Jaime swore under his breath.

“Look at me, Wolfhound.” Brienne lifted her head and winced as the room spun. She swayed, and Jaime’s hands were soon on her forearms, supporting her. Jaime swore again, and he gently led her to a set of steps and lowered her down to sit.

Brienne slowly took in the interior of the cabin, noting stairs to the loft, and the impressive fireplace as Jaime pulled her hat and scarf off. Melted snow dripped down her back and she flinched, sending a new spasm of shivers through her. Jaime made quick work of her boots, and once he had those off, he tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

“Brienne, I’m going to get a fire started. Don’t try to move, okay?” Jaime’s concerned voice melted past the sheets of ice that felt like they had enveloped her mind, and she felt herself nodding. Her legs felt like particularly long and jagged icicles, and the room hadn’t quite stopped wavering back and forth into focus, so she wasn’t inclined to do much more than sit and wait.

Brienne vaguely tracked Jaime’s hurried journey over to the fireplace, where all the tools he needed to start a fire were laid out neatly on the hearth. With a few false starts, and more than a few curses, Jaime eventually had the wood in the fireplace crackling merrily, and he was at her side just as she started to droop with exhaustion.

“Come on, Wolfhound. Stay awake for me.” Brienne wrinkled her brow, and before she could say anything, Jaime was huffing with amused laughter. “I know, I know. That’s not your name.”

Brienne opened her mouth to reply, but Jaime was too busy stripping her coat and backpack from her shoulders, and the shivers prevented her from doing anything other than utter a rather pathetic whimper.

“Okay. One last hike, Wolfhound. Just a single flight of stairs, and then you can lecture me to your heart’s content.” Brienne leaned into Jaime as they climbed the stairs. She felt weightless thanks to his easy strength holding her up, and soon she was sat on the edge of a bed at the top of the loft.

Jaime muttered a quick “be right back” before returning with a stack of quilts and a towel. Brienne was shivering again, and it made Jaime curse again.

“Godsdammit, Brienne, you are _not_ about to get hypothermia on my watch.”

Before Brienne fully realized what had happened, Jaime was pulling off her remaining wet layers, replacing them with quilts that held warmth from the blaze on the floor below them. His hands were gentle, and Brienne vaguely nodded each time Jaime told her what he was about to do. She didn’t have any room for bashfulness when Jaime pulled her jeans off to replace them with a set of sweats from her backpack. It was taking all of her attention just staying awake, and although the fire’s heat was starting to reach the loft, Brienne was still shaking from the cold that seeped out of her skin.

Jaime toweled off her hair before he lifted her and moved her to the head of the bed, piling blankets on top of her. Somewhere between his trips to and from the fire, Jaime had stripped off his own wet winter-gear, and he was wearing a clean set of sweats along with his sweater. Brienne continued to shiver under the covers, and Jaime worried at his lip as he looked down at her. When he spoke, Brienne couldn’t think of any other time she had heard him so serious.

“Brienne, I swear to the Maiden herself, I’m not making a pass at you, but the blankets aren’t doing what they need to fast enough, so I think you’re going to need my help to warm up.” Brienne gaped as Jaime pulled his shirt over his head. His skin seemed to glow with the faint light coming from the fire, and Brienne’s cold-stricken mind thought he must be an angel sent from the Seven to keep her safe. She nodded slowly, and Jaime slowly moved her over to slide under the covers with her.

Brienne felt Jaime start slightly when she leaned against him and her cold cheek met his warm chest, but he soon had his arms around her, pulling her close. She leaned into him once again, and shook slightly as the warmth from Jaime’s embrace fully encompassed her. Jaime leaned back, and Brienne followed him, snuggling into the heat radiating off his body. She couldn’t get close enough to him, but she eventually settled into being half draped over him, one of her legs tangled over his.

Brienne felt Jaime clearing her hair away from her face, and she looked up at him blearily. Jaime’s smile was edged with concern, but it still managed to send a tendril of warmth through her.

“Thanks.” Her voice was soft, but it still made Jaime’s smile broaden.

“Glad to hear the cold kept your oh-so-precise manners preserved.”

Brienne felt a flush returning to her face, and she looked away again, not even realizing how she burrowed herself back into Jaime’s chest until she heard a wordless noise of surprise rumbling against her ear.

“You saved me from freezing to death in my car; of course I’m going to thank you, Lannister.” Brienne muttered into his skin. She felt Jaime’s arms tighten even as he chuckled, a deep and reverberating sound that made his chest vibrate. Brienne was finally feeling warm again, far too content to consider that giving in to the exhaustion tugging at her eyelids while her limbs were tangled up with Jaime would be another complication for the morning she wasn’t prepared for.

No, Brienne’s weariness had left her with nothing but ease as Jaime rested his chin on the top of her head.

“Fair enough, Wolfhound.”

* * *

Brienne noticed two things when the first light of morning woke her. First, she was completely wrapped up in a deliciously half-naked Jaime Lannister. His arms were still wrapped around her as they had been last night, but Brienne was now more than half draped across him. Her hand was splayed on his chest, half of her body was draped over his torso and hips, and their legs were tangled together. There was a mountain of quilts on top of both of them, but nothing compared to the heat she felt from his body pressed against hers, and she wanted desperately to snuggle up to it until spring.

The second thing Brienne noticed was that she could feel _all_ of Jaime pressing against her. Brienne’s face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet as she felt what could only be Jaime’s erection pressing against her inner thigh. Her brain screamed obscenities as she looked up to see Jaime’s face still peaceful in sleep, and she thanked her lucky stars she _hadn’t_ decide to start snuggling up to him before she had fully realized just how close they were that morning.

As the fog of sleep cleared from Brienne’s mind, she weighed her options, pausing only slightly to hurl a mental litany of swearing at the gods. She _needed_ to move, but there was no way to do so that didn’t involve her pressing or (Brienne’s flush somehow managed to deepen) sliding her body against Jaime’s. Before Brienne could make anything resembling a decision, she felt Jaime stirring awake under her.

“ _Shit._ ” Brienne heard Jaime hiss. She didn’t dare move.

“Brienne. Are you awake?” Brienne scrunched her eyes closed before nodding slightly. Jaime swore again, and Brienne felt him shift under her. Her face burned as she felt him against her inner thigh for another burning moment before his hips angled away from hers and they slowly extricated themselves from one another.

Brienne refused to look at Jaime as he muttered, “I’ll be in the bathroom,” and waited for the door to close before grabbing a pillow and muffling a yell into it.

_What the actual fuck. What the fuck, what the fucking fuck?_

Brienne wanted nothing more than to erase the past ten minutes from her mind. She didn’t want to think about how Jaime had shifted against her, how she had felt the whole length of him against her thigh and had wanted to press herself closer. She didn’t want to think about how deliciously warm his skin had felt under her hands, and how easy it would have been for her long fingers to make him shake as she ran them down his bare chest and-

Brienne shook her head. She had been mildly hypothermic less than ten hours ago, she was not about to start fantasizing about Jaime just because he had morning wood. This trip home had gotten messy enough, and she wasn’t about to add “got caught daydreaming about Jaime Lannister by Jaime Lannister” to her list of complications accredited to Jaime’s involvement in her life.

Instead, she made her way downstairs, resolving to pretend things were perfectly normal. After locating her phone and texting her father about the delay with assurances of her safety, she headed towards the kitchen, hoping to find something she could assemble for breakfast.

Brienne was pleasantly surprised by a fairly well-stocked pantry and fridge, and she vaguely remembered Jaime mentioning his family employed someone to maintain the cabin while he was at Winterfell. By the time she had toast, eggs, and a fresh cup of coffee in front of her at the kitchen island, a freshly showered Jaime appeared on the landing. He was dressed in the clothes from last night, and Brienne hid a blush when she realized she was hoping he would reappear without his shirt on.

_Good grief. So much for trying to keep this from getting complicated, Tarth._

“There’s coffee, and I left some things out for breakfast.” Jaime nodded, unusually silent, as he poured himself a cup of coffee and placed it on the kitchen island. Brienne abandoned her plate as Jaime leaned against the kitchen island across from her, bracing himself as he examined his coffee cup with excruciating focus.

Just as Brienne thought she was going to explode with tension, Jaime looked up and cleared his throat, a light tinge of red illuminating his cheeks. Brienne found herself staring at the glorious angle of his cheekbones before she realized Jaime had cleared his throat again. Her flush deepened, and she lamented that her blushing wasn’t nearly as attractive as Jaime’s subtle flush. Before he had to clear his throat again, Brienne shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

“What’s up?” Brienne did her best not to grimace at how falsely bright her voice was.

“Sorry about this morning, Wolfhound.” Jaime reached out to pick up the coffee cup as he apologized, but rather than drink it, he merely twisted the coffee cup around, the dark liquid sloshing back and forth.

Brienne took a sip of her own coffee to settle the flopping feeling in her stomach. She was so twisted up in knots, she didn’t bother chastising him about the nickname. “It’s fine. It’s just a reflex sometimes, right? I won’t hold basic physiology against you, Jaime.”

Jaime looked up at Brienne sharply, and Brienne was surprised to see he was frowning. And that glimmer from last night was in his eyes again. It felt dangerous, that look in Jaime’s glowing green eyes.

“It –that –Seven hells, Brienne!” Jaime ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends in agitation. He glared at his coffee cup before setting it back on the counter and waiting for her to turn to him. “Waking up like that was _not_ normal for me.”

Brienne clutched the handle of her coffee mug tightly, staring at Jaime. She wasn’t used to seeing him so _flustered_ , and it was sending off all sorts of different alarm bells in her mind. A small corner of her mind wanted to shove Jaime away because boys like him didn’t catch feelings for girls like her, but Brienne had come too far too allow old insecurities to refute what she was hearing and the evidence she had been privy to when they both awoke. Jaime wasn’t a liar, and it wasn’t as if there was anyone here to laugh about her reaction with.

Jaime looked pained as he ran a hand through his hair again, and Brienne felt a strong pressure in her chest at how delightfully rumpled he looked. “The only thing normal about that was that I was dreaming of you.”

Brienne continued to stare at Jaime and his ridiculously sharp jaw, and the dark golden curls tousled to a perfect state of disarray, and his strong shoulders, and before she knew it, she was giggling uncontrollably because _of course_ Jaime, standing in front of her with his glorious fucking face looking angelic in its earnestness would surprise her once again and say something so fucking romantic it made her want to swoon.

Jaime clearly didn’t see the same absurdity Brienne did, and she realized as he turned away from her that it might sound like she was laughing _at_ him instead of laughing at how beautifully ridiculous this whole morning had been. Brienne reached out, circling her fingers around Jaime’s wrist to stop him from walking away.

She didn’t have to exert any pressure to stop him, and Jaime turned to face her with that beautiful glimmer that Brienne finally could label as “want” in his eyes. She considered all the different things she could say, all the different ways she should go about expressing just how much she was _more_ than okay with being the person Jaime dreamt about and got hard thinking about, but it all flew out the window when Jaime stopped turning away from her and looked at her with desire.

So Brienne did the only thing she could think of that he couldn’t possibly argue with and pulled Jaime close to kiss him.

Kisses from Jaime, Brienne discovered, were _much_ better than the faint images she had toyed with over the last year and change. Jaime had first made her blush during their first practical lesson when he had claimed his tongue was just as impressive as the valyrian anteater’s, and Brienne’s muffled laugh at the memory slowly morphed into a sigh as Jaime’s tongue ran along her bottom lip. Somehow, Jaime managed to free his wrist from her grasp, and before Brienne knew it, Jaime had both hands tangled in her hair. She could feel him leaning into her, all of his weight on his toes, and Brienne felt her heart melt as she brought her arms around Jaime’s waist.

They broke apart slowly, and this time it was Jaime’s turn to laugh.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that, Wolfhound.” Brienne wrinkled her nose, and this time, Jaime pushed himself higher on his toes to kiss her glower away. Brienne was laughing again before she knew it, and Jaime was smiling into her skin as he pressed light kisses down her jaw.

 _This is a definite complication_ , Brienne thought hazily, as Jaime’s gentle kisses along her jaw became clever, probing kisses down her neck. She rested her forehead against his as he pulled away, both of them half-giddy with joy.

“Next time you want to kiss me, can you _please_ not insult my driving first?” Brienne teased, and Jaime cracked a grin as he leaned in for another kiss, one that suggested she was going to have to adjust her arrival time once again due to unforeseen delays thanks to complications stemming from one Jaime Lannister.

“Deal.”

Brienne wouldn’t have it any other way.


	2. Jaime Lannister's Mulled Wine Recipe

1 Bottle Dornish Red (If you are unable to travel to Dorne, A typical red blend or Cabernet Sauvignon will do nicely)

2 to 3 cups apple cider (Highgarden apple cider is an old family favorite)

¼ cup Brandy

2 oranges

10 cardamom pods

6 whole cloves

3 cinnamon sticks

2 star anise pods

  1. Pour a small glass of wine for yourself, and then add the rest to a large pot or slow cooker of your choice.
  2. Add the apple cider to the slow cooker or large pot
  3. Wash the oranges. Slice one orange into circles, and peel the other orange.
  4. Stick the cloves into the orange peel, add 3 to 4 orange slices and orange peel to the slow cooker or large pot
  5. Add star anise, cinnamon sticks, and cardamom pods to the slow cooker or large pot (To keep messes away when serving, you can place these spices in a tied off bag made of cheesecloth.)
  6. If you are using a large pot on a stovetop: Bring to a boil and then reduce heat, letting mulled wine mixture simmer for 10 minutes. Remove from heat
  7. If you are using a slow cooker: Bring the mulled wine mixture to a steaming temperature on the high setting. This typically takes 15 to 20 minutes. Once steaming, reduce heat to the “keep warm” setting
  8. Add in brandy and stir
  9. Serve garnished with extra slices of orange and cinnamon sticks, break out the cheese board, and remember to stay hydrated in between glasses of wine!
  10. If you are looking for an alternative for alcohol-free gatherings, this recipe also works as an excellent spiced cider recipe! Simply leave out the wine and brandy, and enjoy. 




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